


Servants and Kings

by mavy1



Category: Deltora Quest - Emily Rodda
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, I'll admit this hurts a little when you know what happens to them, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 18:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavy1/pseuds/mavy1
Summary: Jarred shouldn’t feel quite so bitter about it, but he does. Perhaps if it only meant he had to spend less time accompanying Endon on an endless string of pointless royal activities, he would welcome the reprieve. But as it was, he found it harder and harder to stomach the idea of Endon spending his time with someone else.
Relationships: Endon/Jarred | Doom (Deltora Quest)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	Servants and Kings

Jarred drops his empty porcelain dish and fine silver cutlery into the bottom of one of the palace kitchen’s enormous sinks with a loud clatter, earning him a deep scowl from a nearby cook. Wincing at both, he offers her a slight shrug and apologetic grin. He really should be more careful. The cooks had been kind enough to set aside a platter of tonight’s finest fare for him when it had become clear he was not going to be invited to this night’s grand event. Apparently, his best friend’s birthday was now considered a nobility-only affair. It should be expected, really. Him being the crown prince and all. But it still smarted a little, knowing that with every passing birthday Endon would slip a little more through his fingers, a very tangible hourglass running out on their allowed friendship.

Jarred shouldn’t feel quite so bitter about it, but he does. Perhaps if it only meant he had to spend less time accompanying Endon on an endless string of pointless royal activities, he would welcome the reprieve. But as it was, he found it harder and harder to stomach the idea of Endon spending his time with _someone else_. Someone else to reassure him in times of doubt, someone else to make him laugh, his smile radiant as the sun, someone else to remove the knots and plaits carefully from his silken hair at the end of a long day with gentle finger.

Perhaps, he thinks, she is even with him now, dancing the night away, sharing longing looks across the candlelit ballroom, whispering secrets through a fit of giggles. No, it shouldn’t bother him so much.

It does.

Jarred is no fool. Even if he is still too cowardly to try and put a name to his feelings, it doesn’t mean he can’t recognize them. And sometimes – sometimes he thinks, he hopes, maybe, just maybe, he isn’t alone in that. Sometimes, the way Endon looks at him, he could swear –

But it doesn’t matter. He has to remind him self that almost every day lately. Whatever they feel, whatever _he_ feels, there’s no place for it inside these cold stone walls. There never was, or would be.

He shakes his head angrily, trying his best to clear it of such thoughts. Turning to leave, he slips through the crowded kitchen carefully, weaving between the many servants now preparing to present dessert to their expectant audience. He spies towers of glazed pastries, sweet cinnamon rolls, and at the centre of it all, a magnificent cake, certainly worthy of a king – or at least a future king. The head chef had informed him it had taken him over two full days to make. It all seemed a bit overly extravagant to Jarred. But then again, he had never been given such an honor.

He pushes open the rear doors into the darkened hallway beyond, expecting to find it empty, and himself alone. Instead, he startles a very unsuspecting Endon.

Seeing Jarred, Endon starts, only to soften and laugh when he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t scare me like that!” He exclaims. “I’m not supposed to be back here you know!”

Endon is dressed in his finest clothes, a palette of pearlescent cream, silver and gold embroidery, and rich indigo and violet, an ensemble Jarred knows from experience makes him look much older than he is. And much stiffer. Its effect is softened, however, by the way he leans his back so casually, one knee bent, his back and the sole of his fine leather boot planted firmly against the wall. Still, Jarred, in his casual night clothes, feels more than a little unkempt by comparison.

“Oh, I know.” Jarred grins mischievously, but they both know he would never betray his friend’s trust. “But then again, neither am I.”

Endon smiles at him, relaxing once more against the wall. He tears a piece from the soft cinnamon roll he holds in his hand, offering it to Jarred, who takes it readily, his troubled thoughts now forgotten. Here the noise of the party can’t reach them over the bustle of the nearby kitchen, and for a moment, Jarred feels as if things were almost normal.

“Not enjoying the party, your highness?”

Endon rolls his eyes, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“What could anyone possibly have to offer a prince such as myself? Except, perhaps, a bit more spare time. But I suppose that isn’t really theirs to give. They should take a lesson from you, and resolve to give me more nothing every year,” he teases.

He knew Endon was only joking, but in truth Jarred couldn’t remember the last time he had given him something for his birthday. Or for anything, really. He was right when he said he had little worth offering. Except, perhaps -

“No, to be entirely honest, I think it’s all a bit much, really.” Endon remarks, his voice and manner softening as he regards his friend. “The cake, and the gifts, and the dancing. It isn’t really for me anyways. If it were, they’d let you be there.”

“I do have a gift for you, actually.” Jarred blurts before he can stop himself.

Endon, his interest clearly piqued, can’t even feign disinterest, his eyes brightening. “You do? What is it!”

“It’s against the Rule.” Jarred clarifies, almost challenges.

Endon had become increasingly preoccupied with upholding the Rule as of late. It seemed the older he got, the more pressure he felt to behave accordingly, and Endon wanted nothing more than to make his parents proud, and to learn how to be the leader his people deserved. If that meant upholding what were, in Jarred’s eyes, an archaic set of arbitrary rules, then so be it.

Endon glances around, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, which catches Jarred’s attention unwillingly. He hesitates for a moment longer, then –

“Well, who would there be to tell about it?” And he smiles.

Jarred falters, faced now with the reality of his proposition, though Endon does not yet realize what it is he’s offering.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble, after all.”

“Oh, would you just stop worrying and give it to me?” Jarred can’t help but chuckle at that, for once being the one requiring reassurance, and being persuaded to break rules, rather than the other way around.

“Alright, alright. Just - ” He sighs nervously, licking his lips, which suddenly seem impossibly dry. “Put out your hand, and close your eyes, alright?”

“Now?” Endon chirps. Jarred nods.

Taking a deep breath, Endon closes his eyes, stretching out his free hand, palm skyward. For a moment, Jarred simply admires his friend. Dark lashes against rosy cheeks, their slight tint barely visible in the dim. Delicate fingers and soft skin. A warm smile on pink lips, slightly parted. His heart pounds loud through it all, but he steadys himself, and slips his hand into Endon’s. He leans in close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, pressing a long, gentle kiss to his cheekbone. Endon gasps slightly, but he doesn’t pull away, and Jarred allows himself, _just this once_, to linger as long as he likes. Finally, he pulls away, stepping back, meeting Endon’s dark eyes, pupils blown wide in the low light. But Endon does not release his hand.

Suddenly Jarred’s mind catches up with his actions, and his cheeks flush hot with a blush to match Endon’s delicately tinted skin. He bows his head, staring at his feet and biting back a peal of nervous laughter. But still Endon does not let him go.

“Hmm…” He hums, his breath felt as a ruffle against Jarred’s hair, signalling his continued closeness. “You’re right, unfortunately. I could never accept your gift.”

Strangely, Jarred feels his disappointment acutely in his chest, a deep ache for what he always knew he couldn’t have. He should have expected this. He did. But apparently, the knowledge of what was to come did not lessen the sting of it.

“No,” Endon continues with a sigh, “it’s quite rude of me, but I’ll definitely have to return it.”

With that Jarred looks up at him, surprisingly still close enough that were they to move only a little, their noses might brush. How could he possibly return such a thing?

Endon holds his gaze almost defiantly for a moment. Then his gaze shifts, and he’s staring almost longingly at the pout of Jarred’s lips. Tightening his hold on Jarred’s hand, he pulls him closer, and suddenly Jarred understands his meaning. Endon’s breath ghosts across Jarred’s lips, and this time, it’s Jarred’s turn to close his eyes, and wait.

In a moment, Jarred feels the soft press of Endon’s lips against his, and something inside him whispers _softly boy, softly, gently, _and he listens. He leans gratefully into the kiss, feeling his nose brush Endon’s as he tilts his head ever so slightly, and laces their fingers together, but other wise lets the moment be, simple and perfect.

When Endon pulls away, it’s to lean his brow against Jarred’s, smile wide as his breath heaves in his chest. Jarred can feel his slight tremble, and his own knees shake, threatening to give out. But they hold, if just barely.

Jarred isn’t sure how long the spend like that, willing the moment to last just a little longer. But eventually, as all good things must, he knows it has to end.

“I should probably let you get back to your party,” he murmurs.

Endon sighs, but pulls away none the less, turning to retrace his steps into the dark.

“You know, for what it’s worth,” he breaths, “I’d much rather spend my evening with you.”

Chuckling, Jarred replies, “I’m sure that must be breaking some kind of rule, though I’m not sure which exactly. To neglect your duties for someone like… me.”

“I don’t care. Perhaps one day, when I am king, I’ll get to change that rule.”

For a moment, Jarred is truly speechless. Then his senses return to him. “Would you just hurry up and get back before we’re caught?” he grumbles, though his voice is warm, and lacks any of the intended authority.

Endon just laughs, and slips away into the night, leaving Jarred with only the slight taste of cinnamon on his lips, and a memory he is sure he’ll never forget in all his years.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I will be the first to admit that this is quite similar to My Youth is Yours, by the Deltora fandom's most incredible contributor @lovelyleias, but I only realized that part way through writing, and I figured what was the harm? So here we are.
> 
> This really does kind of hurt thinking about where these two end up, but I really do think they were each other's first loves, and I'm not sure anyone could convince me otherwise.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who read, I hope you enjoyed. I always welcome comments or feedback, and if you want to talk about this or anything else, you can always find me on tumblr @backcountry-deltora or @ mavy1
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
